Straight Through My Head
by DragonChild157
Summary: Erik never knew the extents that Charles would go. (My take on how First Class might have ended.)
1. Straight Through My Head

Just a little tidbit that popped into my brain! X-Men: First Class, how it _might_ have ended!

**Boring Disclaimer:** Blah, blah, blah, I own nothing, blah, blah, blah.

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><p>"He's back!"<p>

Charles moved back to the window, eyes fixed on the scrap heap that was all that remained of Shaw's submarine. His mind raced across the intervening space to the tiny pinprick of Erik's mind shining out of the blank spot in the sub. The touch was tenuous, Charles couldn't do much more than brush Erik's mind, as if he was only just barely within his reach. But it was there, and Charles knew that Erik could hear him.

_Excellent! I don't know what you're doing Erik but keep doing it!_

For several seconds there was no reply, then Charles practically fell into Erik's mind, the barrier he'd been fighting now compromised. _That's good Erik I'm beginning to see but I can't yet touch his mind. There's still something blocking me. _

Moira MacTaggert and the remains of Beast's jet faded away. Erik was his eyes and ears now. He could see the inside of the submarine, that room of mirrors, some now shattered by Erik. _I wonder why that works._ He wondered in an absent little corner of his mind. Erik had his back to the wall, watching the man on the other side of the room. Charles focused his attention there.

Shaw.

He looked different than he did in Erick's memories of the camps, younger, more fit. But even if Charles hadn't seen this younger version in the students' memories of Shaw's attacks on the CIA base or in Miss Frost's mind when he'd interrogated her, he still would've recognized this man just as surely as Erik had. That first night they'd met Charles had been unable to protect himself from the memories playing through Erik's head. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Erik that he'd felt his pain. Oh yes, Charles recognized Shaw.

Shaw was coming after them now.

Erik was trying to fend him off, trying so desperately to keep this dangerous man away. Girder after girder broke through the walls or dove down out of the ceiling. Shaw pushed them away contemptuously, his form almost seeming to crackle with the energy he'd absorbed. Erik tried to push back, but the girder kept coming closer and closer until it was pressed against his chest, pinning him to the wall.

"Why do you fight me Erik." Shaw murmured, his voice deceptively tender as he moved into Erik's personal space. "Why do you fight for the weaker species? Humanity is facing its own extinction. We are the future. We accomplished so much together Erik, and we could do so much more. Everything I've done, I've done for us. For mutant kind."

Erik turned his head, looking his captor and former tormentor full in his cold black eyes. "You made me. I am the weapon I am today because of you."

Charles could see the idea in Erik's mind, and a smile touched his lips as Erik confirmed once again what he'd proven in chess so many times before. Erik Lensher was a _very_ formidable opponent.

You couldn't turn your back on him for a _second_.

"You are my creator." Erik finished. The cable snatched the helmet off Shaw's head, and Charles and Erik savored the look of horror and understanding as Shaw realized that Erick wasn't alone.

Charles made a grab for Shaw's mind.

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><p>"Charles! Charles are you alright?!"<p>

"Moira be quiet, I can only control this man for so long!"

Back in the wrecked jet Charles gritted his teeth. He had learned from his dealings with Emma Frost that a person's physical mutations could affect how he dealt with their mind. With Miss Frost, her diamond form made it impossible to get into her mind. It was painful to even try. Shaw couldn't repulse and injure Charles the way Emma could, he wasn't a telepath. But the incredible amount of nuclear energy Shaw had just absorbed was effectively supercharging his mind. Making it stronger, just like it made his body stronger.

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><p>In the sub, Erik pushed the girder away and let it drop to the floor. He slowly walked around Shaw and took the helmet from the cable.<p>

_No Erik! Don't! Be the better man Erik! Erick…!" _

"Not that I don't trust you Charles."

And then he was gone. Charles couldn't feel him anymore, couldn't hear the voice of Erik's mind! He frantically focused all of his attention on Shaw, insinuating himself even further into the man's psyche until he could see and hear through him.

Charles slammed his hand against the side of the ruined Jet. "Damn it Erik, don't do this!"

Erik stared into Shaw's eyes. "If you're still in there somewhere. I want you to know, I agree with every word you said. Mutants are the future of mankind." He strode away a few steps, and for a moment Charles thought Erik might have reconsidered killing Shaw. But then he stopped. "Unfortunately, you killed my mother."

Charles moved away from the window, two fingers still pressed against his temple, eyes staring sightlessly ahead. "Erik, please don't do this."

Erik held up a silver coin, and Charles felt his breath catch. He knew the significance of that coin. And just as he knew Shaw through Erik, he recognized that silver mark. He had no doubt that this was the same coin from Erik's memories. Shaw recognized it too.

"Here's what we're going to do." Erik stated, his eyes cold. "I'm going to count to three. And then I'm going to move the coin."

Charles tuned out Shaw's angry thoughts. _Erik! Don't do this! This won't bring you peace! _Even as he thought the words, Charles remembered saying the exact same thing just the night before. To which Erik's answer had been blunt. Peace was never an option.

"One." Erik counted.

The coin left his fingers, floating slowly across the space between them. Light from the holes in the sub's hull glinted off the sliver disc. Inside the prison of Shaw's head, Shaw's thoughts morphed from angry threats to out and out panic. He redoubled his efforts to shake Charles grip.

Charles would have none of it.

All the while that silver coin floated ever closer.

Charles hoped he would never have to experience something like that ever again.

He slowly dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared vacantly ahead. Someone tried to catch him, a pretty brunet in a tan uniform, a pair of dog tags hanging around her neck. Some distant corner of his mind felt that he knew her, that he should remember her name. But the only thought he had in regards to her was that it was kind of her, trying to break his fall like that.

She kept calling him Charles.

Charles. Yes, that was his name. At least, he was fairly certain it was his name. He must know her then, if she was on a first name basis with him. Shouldn't he? She was getting worried now. He hadn't meant to worry her. Darkness was encroaching on his vision, and things didn't sound right. Words left his mouth, and he hadn't the faintest idea of what they meant.

"Help…Erik…"

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><p>"The enemy is out there my brothers and sisters!" Erik pointed out at the ships. "I feel their guns in the water. Their metal. Pointed at us." He looked toward the jet, intending to have Charles confirm for the others what Erik already knew. But Charles wasn't there. Erik felt a stir of unease.<p>

"Where is Charles?"

Mystique's head whipped around, frantically searching for the kind young professor who had been her first friend. The little boy who had caught her stealing and had given her a home when by all rights he should've called the police. Her gold eyes met Erik's. She was supposed to protect Charles! Raven darted away to the jet. "Charles?!"

Charles didn't answer her.

Erick took three steps towards the jet and froze. He felt it. Mere seconds later he heard the reports of the guns, confirming what his mutation had already told him. The Americans and the Russians had just fired in concert, directly at the beach. Directly at _them_.

Erik turned to face them.

He waited patiently, letting the missiles get close, until there was no chance that he would miss a single one. Then he held out his hand. Gone was the rage that had fueled him before. Shaw was dead. From deep within his memories, he could still hear Charles' voice coaching him as he turned the satellite dish, or lifted the submarine from the depths.

The place between rage and serenity.

_I found it Charles. I found it. _

The missiles hung dead in the air, the rockets spent. Erik smirked. "My turn." He turned the rockets in the air preparing to send them streaking back to the ships, to wreak his revenge on those who had fired them.

"Erik!" Raven raced out of the jet, her face pale with terror. "Erik, Charles is hurt! We can't wake him!"

Erik stared at her in shock. "What?!"

She skidded to a stop at his side. "Charles is hurt. Unconscious. We can't wake him." Erik glanced at all the missiles he still held motionless in the air. Raven shook her head. "Erik. I don't have any particular reason to love humans either, but we don't have time. Charles needs us _now_."

Still Erik hesitated. The pitiful creatures out there had tried to kill him and his fellow mutants. It was only right that he respond in kind. But Charles… Charles needed him.

"Erik." Raven put a gloved hand on his arm, her gold eyes earnest. "What would Charles do?"

Erik stared at her, then nodded. He gave a gentle wave, and the missiles were softly lowered to the sand, laid out on the beach in neat rows. He cast one last look at the ships, then headed for the crashed Jet. "Angel, take to the sky. Warn me if they try any more nonsense."

Angel shook her head. "I can't. Havok scrapped my wing." She gave the blonde a dirty look. He shrugged, not particularly seeming to care. She'd been trying to hurt, if not out and out kill, him and Banshee.

He didn't really hold out any sympathy for her.

Erik looked to Banshee. The ginger shook his head, holding up an arm to display the burn hole in the wing of his suit. He was just as grounded as Angel was. Erik growled. "Fine. If you can't fly then get up on top of the sub and keep watch. Anyone who picks a fight with a fellow mutant will answer to me." Then he ducked into the remains of the jet.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't what he found.

Moira was kneeling on the floor of the jet. Charles lay against her, his legs curled as though he had been kneeling in front of her when he'd passed out. His head rested against her shoulder. Again, unease twisted Erik's gut as he realized that Charles' face was tear streaked.

His dark eyes captured Moira's. "What happened?" he growled.

She shook her head. "I don't know. He just… started screaming. Then he dropped, and I tried to catch him, but he wouldn't answer me when I called his name. I'm not sure he even knew me! He said something about you, and help, and then he passed out! I thought he meant that you needed help, but…"

"It was close, but I'm alright." Erik answered truthfully. If he hadn't realized the helmet was what protected Shaw from Charles, Shaw would've won. "Hank?"

The blue furred mutant had already moved in, checking Charles over for any more obvious injuries. He shook his head. "As near as I can tell, he's just unconscious, but I couldn't tell you why or for how long. Either way, we need to get him away from here."

"Alright." The metal manipulator looked to the mutants who had worked for Shaw. The red one, the one who looked like a demon from a renaissance painting. "You. You're a teleporter right?" The mutant nodded, flicking his tail. "How big is your range?"

"More than enough for our needs." Moira answered grimly. "He transported a general over three thousand miles in a matter of minutes. Getting us to the mainland shouldn't be an issue for him."

The red skinned mutant cast her an irritated look, but nodded agreement. Once the two lookouts were called back, he flicked his tail and held out his hands. "Link hands."

The smell of sulfur overwhelmed them as soon as they had, and reddish black smoke enveloped them. Nothing was left on the beach but the crumpled remains of a submarine, and a smashed up jet plane.

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><p>TO BE CONTINUED...<p>

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><p>Review please! You're input are the highpoint of my days!<p> 


	2. You Got Me, I Can't Stop The Bleeding

Hello my lovelies! Yet another fantastic chapter by yours truly! ...(crickets)...ahem, ok, anyway... Enjoy folks!

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><p>ENJOY!<p>

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><p>Erik listened to the heart monitor.<p>

They had holed up in a hotel room at first, waiting for Charles to wake up, not fully trusting the mutants who had followed Shaw. Especially not with the location of Charles' home. _Their_ home, Charles had always insisted. After seeing how Shaw and his forces had trashed the CIA base, they weren't going to risk it. The atmosphere had been tense but livable, but as the hours passed and Charles remained unconscious they began to worry.

By morning they were worried enough to take him to the hospital.

Their fears had been warranted. According to the doctor, Charles had suffered a _massive_ stroke. He had no family history of stroke, and it was highly unusual for an individual as young as Charles to have a stroke at all! But that was what had happened they said, and he was lucky he was so young, or else the stroke probably would've killed him straight out! Numerous tests had been run, but they still couldn't pinpoint what had caused it.

Erik had his own thoughts about that.

Anger seethed through him. He was glad Shaw was dead, but a part of him wished he'd taken his time, so he could interrogate him now to find out how he'd induced a stroke in Charles. Then he'd kill Shaw to avenge his mother _and_ Charles. But no, Shaw was dead. Leaving Erik with nothing but questions, and Charles trapped in a coma.

_Trapped in his mind…!_

Erik practically ripped the phone from the cradle by the bedside. It took several seconds fumbling, but he eventually ripped the paper scrap with the correct number from his pocket. She picked up on the second ring.

"Erik?"

"Raven, is Azazel still there?"

"Um… Yes, he's still here. Why?"

"Correct me if I am wrong, but the whole point of a coma is being trapped inside yourself. Who better than a telepath to get someone out of a coma!" Erik's voice was grim, but excitement was welling in his chest. Here was hope! There was a chance they could save Charles!

On the other end of the line, Raven sighed. "Don't get me wrong, it's a good idea but…Erik, we don't _have_ another telepath. Charles was it."

"_We_ might not have another telepath, but I know where we can _find_ one." Erik answered grimly. "I happen to know the CIA have one with several years experience on layaway. Have Azazel pick her up and bring her to the hospital."

"Erik…" Raven was silent for a minute. "What makes you think she'll come? I know from long experience that it's _very_ difficult to make a telepath go where they don't want to."

Erik looked at Charles' pale form laying in the hospital bed, and his voice turned cold. "If she doesn't care to come, have Azazel remind her that she owes Charles a favor."

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><p>Emma Frost glared at Erik. "And just <em>how<em> exactly do I owe your telepath friend a favor?

Erik tapped his forehead. "Have a look for yourself."

The blonde arched an eyebrow but didn't hesitate to do just that. She had touched Erik's mind once before, back when Erik had first found and tried to kill Shaw. Any other time she had seen him she'd been focused on fending off the telepath. She remembered that he had a strong mind, but when she touched it now she found it even stronger. And he was _aware_ of her touch.

The minute he felt it, he presented a memory for her inspection.

She could see herself, trapped by that metal bed frame. The pipe was around her throat and cracks were beginning to spider outwards. Then, she felt something in Erik _give._ He was perfectly willing to hurt her, but he knew that Charles (so _that_ was the telepath's name!) wouldn't _approve!_ And so Erik had eased his hold ever so slightly. She had succumbed seconds later, never realizing that Charles' presence had protected her.

For a second she suspected him of making it up, the very strong and the very _creative_ minds could do it, with varying degrees of believability. But this one was pure. There was no doubting the veracity of his memory.

She blinked, absolutely floored. That didn't often happen. "Fine." And she dropped down in a chair next to Charles' bed.

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><p><em>Emma opened her eyes. <em>

_The mindscape wasn't at all what she'd expected. From what little she'd seen of him (and his mind) during their encounters, she'd expected to find his mind in some sort of simple but strong form. She'd gotten the impression that he was intelligent, and she knew for a fact that he was strong. But looking at this mindscape, she was beginning to wonder if this young man wasn't a heck of a lot smarter than she'd originally thought. And from much higher up the social ladder than she would've guessed! _

_The mindscape she was looking at was a massive mansion. Staring all around her, she saw the home of someone with means. Yet, she saw the intelligence here. There were books all over the place. All shapes, all sizes, all colors. Most were thick, a lot appeared old, and a goodly amount were classics. This telepath,_ _this_ Charles, _was well read. She picked up a book to glance at the title, did a double take, then slowly set it back down. He was most _definitely_ well read! If the title was anything to go by, the book was dealing with advanced genetics!_

_She moved deeper into the mansion. _

_It was weird. A mansion like this should feel imposing. Like a palace, or museum. Some place you visit, but not some place you live. It should feel cold. But it didn't. Incredibly, this place felt warm. Lived in. It felt like a _home_. _

_There! There was the telepath! _

_Emma threw open the door. Charles paced on the other side. The room he was in definitely accented his intelligence. Even more books were crammed into the room, shelves full of them, and stacks of them coated almost every available surface. A globe sat to one side, and a chess set was sitting in a place of honor between to comfortable chairs. A fire roared in a massive fireplace, and framed pictures coated the walls. One in particular caught her attention. The room, instead of feeling stuffy and cramped, instead gave the impression of warmth and comfort. Of _home_. _

_The young telepath stopped his pacing, staring at her in surprise. _

_Emma smiled. "Hello Professor. Erik Lensher sent me to help you."_

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><p>Her attention didn't waver for the next several hours. She never took her eyes off of Charles still form. She never once shifted position. Erik wasn't even entirely sure she blinked or breathed during that time, though logic said she must've. But at last she sighed and sat back in her chair, rubbing her eyes.<p>

"Well?" Erik asked gruffly.

"He'll be awake in a minute or two. He's had quite a shock…You are lucky to have him you know. He's the sort of friend I could only dream of having." She answered. "And frankly, even after being in his mind I still don't quite understand what it is he sees in you."

Erik bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?

Her unnerving gaze settled on him and she rose. "What I _mean_, is that he trusted you!" She spat. "And that he's paid a high price for your revenge Erik Lensher!"

A quiet sound from the bed staved off Erik's reply

Charles was _awake._

"Charles!" Erik hurried to his friend's bedside, eagerly clasping his hand. To his surprise Charles sucked in a breath and jerked his hand away. "Charles?"

"Erik?" Vivid blue eyes finally seemed to focus, and the telepath sighed. "Sorry, you just startled me is all. I'm alright." He put his hand back in Erik's and gave him a reassuring smile. To Emma Frost he added, "Thank you Miss Frost. I'm not entirely certain I could've gotten out of there on my own."

"You'd have gotten out eventually." She assured, her smile much warmer than Erik would've expected. "I just sped up the process." She glanced at the door, then added. "Your doctor is coming to check on you. Apparently they're monitoring your vitals at the front desk. If there's anything you want to know I suggest you ask now."

Predictably, the first question Charles fired off was "How are the children?"

_"Safe."_ Erik assured. "We even got Angel back. Raven can bring them by to see you later if you'd like."

"I would like that." Charles agreed. "And the ah, confrontation…?"

Erik smiled. "I think the president said it best. This thanksgiving season, we truly have something to be _thankful_ for."

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><p>"He <em>what?!"<em>

For once, Erik completely agreed with Moira.

The doctor nodded sadly, glancing back at the closed door to Charles' room. _Not that a closed door would prove much of a barrier if Charles really wanted to hear what was being said._ Erik thought.

"He can't feel his legs." The doctor reiterated. "It's an effect of the stroke I'm afraid. Often, when a stroke hits the brain it affects certain parts of the nervous system and inhibits motor control of specific parts of the body. Usually this is exhibited predominantly on one side of the body or the other. The fact that he cannot feel _either_ of his legs is highly unusual, but then, this has been an _unusual_ case from the _start."_

"Will he ever be able to walk again?" Raven asked, clinging to what little hope she had left.

The doctor sighed. This was the part about being a doctor that he hated, giving the bad news to his patients or their family members. His patient had identified these people as his students and friends, the closest thing he had to family, and had given him leave to tell them whatever family members would be entitled to know.

"I am going to be completely honest with you." He stated. "There are some stroke patients who manage to regain some motor control through physical therapy. As severe as Professor Xavier's stroke was, I would say that he is lucky to be _alive._ It would be a miracle if he ever made enough of a recovery that he could walk again. But I'm a doctor. I know better than to say something is impossible. I see miracles in my patients every day. And your professor is a remarkable man. Is it impossible that he will get up out of his wheelchair some day? No. But barring a miracle, it isn't _likely."_

Erik looked toward the door, his heart clenching in his chest. A horrible suspicion was worming its way into his mind. One he didn't want to consider. But the more he thought about it, the more he began to fear it was true.

Could _he_ have done this?

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><p>TO BE CONTINUED...<p>

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><p>Review please! They are the awe-smacking-awesomeness that get trapped telepaths out of comas!<p>

Until next time!


	3. You Shot Me, I Just Can't Believe It

Guess who's up for round three?! Yep, this chick! Enjoy my little finale folks!

Thanks to the oh so fabulous charlie7694 for their review, and a thanks and shout out to the awesometastical guest Mary Read who pointed out my time anachronism in the previous chapter! Thanks _so_ much for catching that, I've gone back and fixed it now! :) Chocolate chip cyber cookies for the two of you awesome people! (::)

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><p>ENJOY!<p>

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><p>"Welcome home Charles."<p>

Crystal blue eyes shown as they gazed at the mansion and, more importantly, the people who waited on the front steps for him. It still saddened him that Angel had chosen to go with Azazel and Riptide, disappearing with them without a word shortly after Charles awoke. But the mansion was now home to a new mutant as well. Emma Frost had decided to stay for the time being, and Charles understood that she got along quite well with his students.

Charles had missed them.

It had seemed forever that he'd had to remain under observation in the hospital, to the point where he was tempted to mentally ask the doctor to release him. And after that he'd spent forever and a day in a rehabilitation center, taking physical therapy and learning to cope with his new wheelchair. But it was over now.

At last he was _home_!

And it seemed that his students had missed him just as much as he had missed them! The welcome home party they'd planned for him was simple but exceptional. It was late before they would even consider winding the party down.

It wasn't until Charles tried to retire to his room that he realized a problem.

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><p>Though he had been at the rehab center for time out of mind, it had never occurred to him that some changes would need to be made to his own home in order to accommodate his new limitations. One of those changes being an elevator, if he wanted to keep using his own bedroom.<p>

"Need a hand?"

Charles gave Erik a sheepish look. "I didn't even think about the fact that my bedroom is upstairs." He admitted

Erik pushed off of where he'd been leaning on the door frame and came to him. "You've also had a good deal else on your mind. I think you can be forgiven if a few things slip." He assured. "Come on, up you get."

Charles gave a startled yelp as Erik scooped him out of his chair in a bridle carry and started to carry him upstairs, but he quickly settled. "This isn't exactly what I meant." He chuckled, watching his chair float up the stairs behind them.

"I wasn't sure." Erik answered amiably. "But I thought it would be more unsettling if I just picked you up chair and all."

The two fell into companionable silence, Charles tiredly resting his head on Erik's shoulder. It had been a long day, capped off by a late night. He was beat. He expected Erik to put him back in his chair at the top of the stairs, but the metal manipulator calmly carried him all the way to his room, the door opening and closing of its own accord.

"Thank you Erik."

"You're welcome."

Charles frowned, looking up at his friend. Something was off, had been ever since Charles had woken up from his coma. But tonight it seemed worse than usual. Charles would've addressed it sooner, but whenever he got ready to broach the subject someone would walk in. "Something is preying on your mind my friend." He stated. It wasn't a question.

Erik sighed. "We need to talk Charles."

The telepath nodded. His eye lit on the fireplace, thoughtfully set ablaze earlier in the evening by one of his students. "Very well. If you would set me down on the couch?" He waited until Erik had set him down and settled himself on the other end of the couch before proceeding. "Now, what is troubling you?"

Dark eyes met clear blue. "I need to know what happened when I killed Shaw."

Charles froze. That was the _last_ thing he would've expected. "What?!"

"I need to _know_ Charles." Erik growled. "I need to know whether _Shaw_ did this to you… or whether I did…" Charles could see him swallow, could feel the fear rolling off him in waves. "I need to know." Erik repeated softly. "I need to know the truth."

"I will not lie to you." Charles hesitated. "Do you mind?"

The question and the little hand gesture that accompanied it was so familiar it actually startled a laugh out of Erik. He nodded, moving closer to Charles. It was silly really, as powerful as Charles was a couple of feet certainly wouldn't make all that much difference to _him._

Charles touched two fingers to his temple, just like he always did, and Erik felt that familiar presence in his mind. Then came the memory.

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><p>He could see it all clearly.<p>

The room, the girders, the shattered mirrors. He could see himself standing across the room from Charles' vantage point, wearing the helmet.

_Erik, please don't do this. _

Erik watched as his past self held up a silver coin, and he felt Charles catch his breath. He felt the _fear_ Charles felt as the telepath recognized the coin. Through Charles, he heard Shaw's reactions to the coin.

"Here's what we're going to do." Erik's past self stated, his eyes cold. "I'm going to count to three. And then I'm going to move the coin."

_Erik! Don't do this! This won't bring you peace!_ Erik heard Charles cry, even though the only one who would hear him was Shaw.

"One." The past Erik counted.

The coin left his fingers, floating slowly across the space towards them. Light from the holes in the sub's hull glinted off the sliver disc. Erik could hear when Shaw's thoughts morphed from angry threats to out and out panic. He felt when Shaw redoubled his efforts to shake Charles grip.

And he felt when Charles _fought back._

_Release me! _Shaw screamed silently at Charles. _Erik has lost his mind! Release me and I will stop him, before he kills us_ both!_ And if you think that you'll survive this, let me assure you, the psychic backlash of my death will kill you too. Believe me, I_ know!

To Erik's astonishment, Charles' only reply was to tighten his grip, his chain of reasoning as clear as day. If he released Shaw, the mutant would kill Erik, reclaim his helmet, and then use his newly acquired energy to kill Charles' students and sink the ships waiting offshore. Shaw would start world war three.

Charles would _not_ let that happen.

He had lived through world war two, both as himself and through Erik's _memories._ If it was within his considerable power, he was going to prevent the start of another. He was going to stop this war before it started. He was going to protect Moira and his students, who had placed so much trust in him. He was going to keep Shaw from killing Erik. Even if that meant letting Erik kill _him_ along with Shaw.

All the while that silver coin floated ever closer.

Erik felt it when the coin touched Shaw's forehead, felt it as surely as Charles had felt it, as if the flesh was his own. He felt the steady press of the coin, felt when the edge broke the skin…

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><p>Erik blinked, disoriented by Charles sudden departure from his mind.<p>

"I won't show you the rest." Charles stated, quietly but firmly.

Without even thinking about it, Erik reached up and gently brushed his thumb across Charles' forehead. Charles flinched away from the touch, wincing with remembered pain. And that hurt more than Erik ever could've imagined it would. The man he felt to be his first friend. Sometimes he still felt that Charles was his only friend. To have him flinch away as if Erik would _hurt_ him… But he _had_ hurt him, and Charles had _every_ right to flinch away.

Erik stood and strode several steps away, leaning against the mantelpiece. He had done this!

He had crippled Charles.

"You were right my friend… killing Shaw has not brought me piece. It has brought me a new form of torment. Trapped me in a new level of hell." He turned, not knowing where he would go but knowing he couldn't stay here. Not now.

"Erik."

He ignored Charles' call.

_Erik. _

Erik stopped, frozen by that mental call but still completely aware. He'd known Charles could freeze people temporarily, but he hadn't known that the telepath could freeze motor control and leave the mind active.

_I'd come after you in the wheel chair, but seeing as you left it by the door I don't have much choice._ Charles thought at him._ I am going to release you now, and if you still want to walk away I will not stop you. But I _will_ follow you as best I can._

Erik felt his muscles unfreeze, but he didn't try for the door again. What was the point, when Charles could follow him without ever leaving the couch?

_Erik. _Charles' thoughts were gentle. Soothing. _I would prefer to talk to you face to face if I may. Please come back to the couch. _

"I did this to you Charles." Erik answered aloud.

"Yes. You did." Charles agreed. "But that is not what matters right now."

_That_ did it. Erik whipped around to stare at Charles in shock. "Not what _matters…?"_ He strode back across the room, stopping almost right in front of the crippled telepath. "You _trusted_ me Charles! What matters more than that? You _trusted_ me and I almost _killed_ you! And now you're…you're…" His shoulders slumped and he bowed his head. "…this is all my fault…"

Charles leaned forward, reaching for Erik's hand. He made a face when he realized that it was just beyond his reach. "_Damn it Erik_, will you _please_ come here?!" He tugged Erik to sit down next to him as soon as the older man complied.

Erik obeyed, and was surprised to see nothing but concern in his friend's eyes. He bowed his head. "I was determined to beat Shaw. But it seems _he_ was the victor in the end."

"What logic lead you to that conclusion?"

"He has the last laugh. I didn't care if I died, so long as I took him with me. So _he_ died and took my only friend from me instead."

Charles jerked, startled. _"What?"_ Erik didn't answer. "Erik, _look_ at me please." He waited until Erik did, then continued. "You made a mistake." Charles said softly. "One that we both will have to live with. There is _nothing_ we can do about that. So let it alone. You weren't the only one making choices that day Erik, and given the same set of choices I would make the same decision again." He smiled. _"Yes,_ I trusted you. And I still _do."_

"How can you say that? How can you say that when it's _my_ fault you're _crippled_?"

At last Charles' patience slipped. "Because the minute I give up is the moment Shaw actually _does_ win!" He took a deep breath, regaining his calm with impressive speed. "I lived through your memories of the camps Erik. And in his last moments I lived through every single moment of that horrendous man's _unnaturally_ long life. You made a mistake. But don't you _ever_ make the assumption that the blame for what happened to me rests _solely_ on your shoulders. Shaw had more to answer for than you could ever imagine. You weren't the only mutant he found. You were simply the last. The war ended before he could kill you… if I never have to hear someone scream as long and as painfully as the girl with the emerald eyes…" Charles' crystal blue eyes hardened. "I don't know about you, but I _refuse_ to let him win. My disability will _not_ stop me, nor will I give up a friend who needs me without as much of a struggle as I can muster."

Erik stared at him. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"Ha!" Charles laughed and patted Erik's shoulder. "Erik, it isn't about who _deserves_ a friend. You're an acquaintance _because_. You're a friend _despite_. And that night I met you, you definitely _needed_ a friend!"

Erik chuckled. "I won't deny that!"

The two settled back against the couch, laughing as they remembered how they had first met, reminding each other of amusing things the other had said or done. Eventually they drifted into silence, quietly watching the fire.

Charles sighed. "I know we differ in our opinions regarding humans… Do you remember, you once accused me of thinking that all humans were like Moira?"

Erik chuckled. "I remember. And you accused me of believing that all humans are like Shaw."

Charles nodded. "I did. And I have come to realize a fallacy in my assessment. I accused you of believing all humans were like Shaw, but Shaw wasn't human. He was a mutant." Erik arched an eyebrow, a silent request for Charles to elaborate. "Just as Moira is proof that there are good humans, Shaw was living proof that there are evil mutants. Perhaps humans and mutants are not so different as some would have the general populous suppose."

"Your point?"

"My point is that it is the nature of the beast to be frightened of that which it does not understand. There will always be those too fearful to understand those who are different. There will always be individuals in the extreme. But, there are good people on both sides. Is it so farfetched that humans and mutants couldn't learn to coexist, given time?"

"Charles…" Erik sighed. "I lost my faith in humanity a long time ago Charles. You know that… It is a long and difficult road you're proposing to walk my friend."

"But not impossible." Charles countered. "We've had our differences in the past, and I'm certain we'll disagree again in the future. But together we are a force to be reckoned with. And it's up to us to be the better men." He fell silent, giving Erik time to think, then at last offered his hand. "Together?"

"You're mad, you know that?" Erik hesitated, then smiled and shook his hand. "Together it is then."

* * *

><p><em>Fine'<em>

* * *

><p>Yeah, the Marvel universe would've been a hell of a lot different if I'd been part of the creative writing process, that's for sure. If these two had never become the frenemies their lives would've been so very different!<p>

Review please! They are the spice of life and love and friendship! Oh! And kudos to whoever gets the music reference in the chapter titles!

Until next time!


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